


we were too close to the stars

by inkwelled



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Injury, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Families of Choice, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Late Night Conversations, Mild Language, Night Terrors, Non-Linear Narrative, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/pseuds/inkwelled
Summary: "God,what did they do to you," Maria whispers, wrapping another bandage around Carol's bicep.For all it's worth, Carol doesn't even wince.





	we were too close to the stars

**Author's Note:**

> [ insert meme of that one guy scream-crying before wiping his eyes on the corner of the pillow ]
> 
> ANYWAYS enjoy and feel free to yell at me about these two and how endgame is going to single-handedly destroy us all and how marvel hasn't released whether monica and/or maria died in the snap at my marvel twitter @ bbrielcrson
> 
> title ; [reflections](https://genius.com/The-neighbourhood-reflections-lyrics) by the neighbourhood because it's TOTALLY a carolmaria song and i challenge anyone who says otherwise to a formal duel outside of the their local mcdonald's at 2am est

  
" _God_ , what did they do to you," Maria whispers, wrapping another bandage around Carol's bicep. 

 

For all it's worth, Carol doesn't even wince.

 

At least Maria doesn't think she does. Carol's facing away from her, perched on the end of Maria's bed with her legs hanging uselessly over the edge. Maria sits cross-legged on the comforter, losing herself to the stark white of the bandage roll.

 

She doesn't think of the thud of Carol's body hitting the ground, the sound that jolted her from her - _admittedly weak_ \- sleep. She doesn't think of Monica's scared eyes from the top of the stairs when Maria carried Carol's limp, unconscious figure into the house, laid her on the table and instructed Monica to get the kit from under the bathroom sink.

 

Carol had jolted awake when Maria started disinfecting the largest gash. Monica had screamed, jumping back when Carol sat straight upwards, fists and eyes glowing until she saw who was around her.

 

Maria will never forget the pure horror in Carol's eyes when they focused on Monica, cowering behind her mother and shaking.

 

"Bed," Maria had instructed, cutting Carol off before she could say a damn thing and fall to pieces on her dining room table. Or more pieces than she was already in. "You have school in the morning. Go."

 

"Maria, Monica, I-"

 

Maria had pinned her to the table with a look. "You better still be here when I get back," she said sternly but not wholly unkindly. "Or you'll have hell to pay, Danvers. I don't care how fast or far you can fly."

 

Monica had still been shaking when Maria tucked her into bed.

 

Maria knows Monica is listening through the closed door of her mother's bedroom but she doesn't care right now. Carol's breath is still coming shallow, vibrant blue seeps through the middle of bandages wrapped around her bicep, her shoulder, her neck.

 

She purses her lips, tugs on the bandage. Carol balls her fist in her lap but doesn't say a thing.

 

Maria misses her laugh, misses the curve of her smile. 

 

"Off," Maria had instructed when she finally came back downstairs. "I need to see where you're hurt so I can patch you up."

 

"I'll be fine," Carol had insisted weakly but had caved beneath Maria's glare within seconds. "Alright."

 

Maria's gaze had softened. "Let's get you upstairs," she had murmured.

 

Carol hadn't protested, rather slinging her arm around Maria's shoulders and getting off the table with a muffled groan. Maria had wrapped an arm around her waist, listening to the pained choke that Carol stifled between her clenched teeth.

 

The room is so quiet it threatens to choke Maria. She swallows thickly, ties off the bandage, tries not to think about the puckered, faded scars across Carol's back where her suit is removed, too.

 

"Please don't," Carol says so limply and Maria's fingertips jerk back. 

 

Her fingers had been hovering over the largest one, a line of twisted and healed skin that stretched from shoulder to hip, cutting across her back. It was pale pink and white around the edges but Maria could only dare to imagine what had inflicted it.

 

There's blue blood beneath her fingernails and Carol holds her tight that night. Maria is more than used to this by now; Carol never stops by to say hello, rather crashes into the yard in various states of injury and Maria will patch her up. 

 

They'll share a bed.

 

For the nightmares, of course.

 

The next morning Carol will be gone and Maria won't hear hide nor tail from her for another few weeks. Sometimes it'll extend to months and Maria will grow used to sitting by the window until the early hours of the morning.

 

It's their routine. But tonight, something's different.

 

Maybe it's the dip of Carol's shoulders, the defeated slump of her chest when she sighs. Carol, for all her ridiculousness and love of fun, has always had perfect posture.

 

Even when slouching.

 

So much has changed.

 

The light is off and Maria can feel Carol's breathing against her back. She nestles deeper into Carol's arm underneath her head, presses a chaste kiss to the bare skin there. 

 

Carol is dressed in a pair of Maria's pajamas.

 

Maria makes a mental note to pick up Carol some Earth clothing for next time she's in town. Blue blood, as it turns out, is hard to remove from clothes.

 

"They took so much from you," Maria whispers but she knows Carol hears her. She always hears, "but I refuse to let them take you, too. Where are you?"

 

Carol's voice is heavy with sorrow, exhausted. "I'm here."

 

"No," Maria says, twisting her head to catch sight of the scratches on Carol's cheek, "you're not but I'm not always here, either."

 

The sound of cicadas fills the quiet bedroom for a few moments until Carol sighs so deeply that her chest presses into Maria's shoulder blades. Maria waits. 

 

She knows Carol.

 

"Why are you here?"

 

Carol's voice is quiet. It's whiplash, hearing her now after so many years of running drills with her and singing karaoke in bars. Carol's always been loud.

 

"I came to say goodbye," Carol whispers and Maria shifts in her arms. She's careful to avoid the gouge in Carol's arm that she knows is probably healed by now - damned accelerated healing factor - but she settles down quickly enough.

 

Maria sighs into the warm Lousiana night air that drones in through the fan in the window. "You think it's too dangerous to keep coming back."

 

It's not a question.

 

"Yes," Carol says softly. "I still don't remember everything. I still get flashes during battles, I see the life I had here before it all went to shit and I crave it. That. The time before now."

 

Maria is quiet for a moment. Carol's arm tightens around her waist. "You know we can't go back," she murmurs. "And I wouldn't choose to if I had the chance."

 

"What?"

 

She sits up, twisting, to take Carol's hands in her hands. Splayed out against the pillows, Carol's hair is stringy with sweat and Maria knows tomorrow she's going to have to force her to shower before she takes off again.

 

"You came back," she says simply. Carol's eyes hold understanding as she leans into the touch of Maria's warm palms. "I never dreamed you would come back. I had always hoped, but-"

 

An unexpected dry sob cuts whatever Maria is going to say off.

 

Carol's always been warm but now it's just enough to remind Maria she's no longer wholly human. It's been a couple of years since Carol stepped into the hanger, confused, lost, since she kissed Maria in her backyard and Maria let her.

 

Carol presses a kiss into her palm. "I came home," she echoes and Maria kisses her with her next breath. It's gentle, warm, soothing, the sensation of a reunion after years apart.

 

And that's what it is, isn't it?

 

It's Carol that pulls Maria on top of her, Maria's thighs straddling Carol's waist. They're both in thin t-shirts, worn soft from time and Maria leans forward to kiss Carol and thanks her past self for not putting on bottoms.

 

Carol's hands tangle in the short ends of her hair as Maria sweeps her tongue over the seam of Carol's mouth. Carol lets her in.

 

Maria wakes with a start, scream stuck in her throat and sweat on her forehead. Her body jerks against the sheets, arms scrambling as she jolts upwards and searches for the body that's supposed to be beside her.

 

Carol isn't there.

 

Her bedroom door is cracked open, letting the hallway light filter through the opening. Maria takes a harsh, deep breath, lungs rattling, walks across the creaky floorboards.

 

She follows the light down the stairs. A quick detour at Monica's door tells her that her little girl is dead to the world, face buried in her pillow. Maria smiles, pulls the door closed softly until the handle clicks before making her way down the stairs.

 

Pulling her thin bathrobe tighter, Maria leans against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. 

 

"Nightmares?"

 

Carol doesn't even turn around. Maria doesn't have to ask how she knows she was there, just walks forward to wrap her arms around Carol's torso.

 

"Seems I'm not the only one," Maria says and Carol hums in quiet agreement. 

 

She tilts the glass back and Maria watches the amber liquid disappear between Carol's lips. In Carol's hands, the glass looks small and Maria knows Carol could easily destroy it if she wanted.

 

Carol's hands have shot fire and war yet they're soft when she sets down the glass. "Sorry for breaking into your stash," Carol whispers hoarsely. 

 

Maria shakes her head, chuckling. "You remember where it was."

 

"You don't like change," Carol points out, turning in the seat to tug Maria into her lap. Like she's coming home, Maria settles on her thighs with ease and Carol's mouth tastes like liquor and the sheets upstairs.

 

It's quiet for a moment, the house big around them.

 

"I shouldn't have come," Carol says then, looking anywhere but Maria.

 

Maria's eyebrows furrow but she knows Carol isn't done.

 

The other woman makes a sound of frustration, balling up her fist between them and looking down at it. "I shouldn't have come," she says again, softer somehow. "I know my return always hurts. I'm sorry, Maria."

 

Maria presses her cheek into the top of Carol's head, cradling her lover within her arms. "Don't say that. You know you're always welcome in your home."

 

"What if one day I bring trouble back with me?"

 

She sucks in a breath then, thinking about the panic that had nestled deep in her ribs when the Skrull got into her house and she saw a woman that was her but not her out in the yard with her daughter. Maria thinks of the little girl fast asleep upstairs, the stars in her eyes when she looks at Carol.

 

"We can take care of ourselves," Maria reminds Carol. "You don't have to protect us. She's strong, we both know that."

 

"And you?"

 

Maria pauses. "You know I can take care of myself."

 

"I know," Carol says hoarsely, bringing one of Maria's hands from her shoulders to press a kiss into the palm. "But you shouldn't have to. Not on my account. My presence here is a danger."

 

It's quiet for a few minutes, on a knife-edge of comfortable. Outside her door, the cicada hum fades into the background. She's grown used to them, their chirping, the sound becoming soothing.

 

She rubs Carol's back. "Okay," she murmurs. "Okay."

 

"Really?"

 

Maria pulls back, cups her hands on either side of Carol's cheeks. "We don't need your protection but your willingness to do everything you can to secure it is exactly the woman you were before. I know you, Carol, maybe better than I know myself. If you feel this is right, I'll support you. God knows it'll hurt though."

 

_"Thank you,"_ Carol whispers, gratitude crashing down in her voice. She wraps her arms around Maria and draws her closer until Maria's head is pillowed in her shoulder and she breathes in the smoky, distinct smell of Carol.

 

"Just promise me you'll come home to us when it's all over, okay?"

 

_Home to me._

 

Hope bangs around like a bullet in Maria's chest. Carol's words ruffle her hair.

 

"I promise."


End file.
